Only My Heart Knows
by dinosaur-idontcare
Summary: When Kurt woke up, he couldn't remember a thing. Then there was Blaine.  Future!Fic, goes AU after Prom Queen.
1. Chapter 1

Author: dinosaur-idontcare

Title: Only My Heart Knows

Rating: T (but the rating may go up)

Word Count: 6,275

Spoilers: none

Warnings: Language, inaccurate medical information.

Summary: When Kurt woke up, he couldn't remember a thing. Then there was Blaine.

Notes: Future!Klaine, goes AU after prom queen. I own nothing except the ideas and the words. I'm not a doctor. My medical knowledge is based around a few google searches. Complete medical accuracy should definitely not be expected, and it's most definitely not promised.

Enjoy! :)

* * *

><p>"Blaine, honey, you've got to go home."<p>

"What? No, why? I know that I wasn't around…and I know that this probably doesn't seem like my place…but please don't make me leave, Mercedes. Please."

"Hon, I'm not asking you to leave, not even a bit. I'm asking you to go home, get some sleep, answer some emails, have a bubble bath or turkey dinner, whatever. I can't remember the last time you left for more than a quick shower and a shitty sandwich from the cafeteria. You really aren't sleeping enough when you're here. Yes-I know you like to sleep here, but go home and have a proper sleep, just this once. I'll stay with him."

They both looked to the boy lying on the bed, not moving. His face was so perfect, and he could have just been sleeping. But he wasn't. The multitude of machines and cords and bags and god knows what else attached to his body testified to that.

"But…what if?"

"Honey, if anything at all changes you'll be the first call I make."

"I…don't want to leave him."

"It's a few hours, Blaine. Just a few hours. That you need. You're going to make yourself sick, not sleeping, barely eating, spending every second in this horrible room. You sick is the last thing he would want. If you can't do this for you, do it for him."

"O-okay." Yet still he hesitated, turning back to the lifeless angel in the too-big hospital bed. Like every time he looked at him, his heart broke just a little bit. That bed made him look so…small. So fragile. "I can be back here in twenty minutes."

"Blaine…it's a half hour drive."

"If he needs me I can probably make it in ten."

"Blaine, baby. Just go. We can hold down the fort for a few hours." When he still hesitated, clearly having trouble pulling himself away, "Go. I will call you."

And he went.

"Oh, boo. That boy...goodness."

Suddenly Blaine's retreating steps stopped, and started approaching again.

"Blaine." the warning in her voice made him almost smile.

"Don't worry, 'Cedes, I'm going. I just…had to say goodbye." His eyes took in her hand wrapped around Kurt's and he felt a twinge. He never just…touched Kurt, never just held his hand, he couldn't and he could scarcely explain to himself why that hurt so fucking bad.

"Boy, it's a few hours."

"Still…I just…I have to."

She smiled softly at him, kissing his cheek and got up, "I'm going to grab myself a cup of coffee then."

"Thanks 'Cedes." he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then took her seat. "Kurt." he whispered, cringing just a little at how rough and worn his voice sounded. Maybe Mercedes was right and he did need some actual sleep. "Kurt. I'm going to go…just for a little while though. And I'll be back here the moment you need me. I'll be back here even if you don't need me, to be honest. I'll be here until you tell me to get out. And then I'll probably just be outside. Because…just because. Please, please…just wake up. We all want to see your eyes, Kurt. We all want to hear you laugh, and sing and just…just see you smile. We just…we need you, Kurt. Mercedes has nobody to be fabulous with, I mean, I try but I pull of 'oh my god Blaine, please just stop before I pee my pants' more than fabulous, generally. And your dad, oh Kurt. He needs you because you're his heart, and you know that far better than I do. And god, I never want to see anybody cry like that ever again. Carole too, she needs you to stop her from wearing high waisted jeans and peasant blouses. And Finn. Maybe you never saw it, but that boy…well he loves you. He does. You're his brother, and he loves you. He needs you to stop him from being an idiot, and he needs you to make him eat his veggies-you know how he forgets. Everyone needs you, Rachel…Quinn…Brittany...Noah…Wes…David. They've all been here. They all visit. They all want to see you and speak to you and tell you just how much they love you. And Kurt…I need you. I can't imagine you not waking up, not laughing at how silly we've all been, worrying about you. You are the strongest person I know. And…you've just got to wake up. Please. The doctors are saying they don't know why you're still like this. They have no idea. They don't know what you'll be like when you wake up, they don't know much of anything. I'm not scared though. You'll still be Kurt. And I'll still-" he choked on the last word and before he could force it out the door opened and there was Mercedes.

"Boy, I know you are not talking my poor baby's ear off when he can't even stop you. Stop thinking so much, honey. Go get some sleep, we'll be here when you get back. Everything is going to be perfectly fine. Love you. Goodbye."

* * *

><p>He unlocked his apartment-god, when was he even here last? He couldn't remember-and dropped his coat on the couch. It was October and the air had a bite and leaves where everywhere, the world was a riot of colour. Autumn was Kurt's favourite. He walked into his bedroom, got slowly undressed and then fell face first onto his bed, exhaustion finally washing over him and he passed into dreamless sleep.<p>

* * *

><p>The hand within hers twitched ever so slightly. She smiled a bit, and she knew that there was a time when this sad, bitter approximation of a smile would have felt so wrong on her face. Now it felt just right, so familiar that it was a bit scary. The movement of his hand was an uncontrolled muscle spasm, something his body did all on its own. That fact had broken her heart the first time his hand twitched in hers, her heart jumping to her throat, all the movies she had seen leading her to believe that he was waking up at last. She had run for the doctors, but they had gently explained that it was an involuntary movement, and that it meant absolutely nothing. That was the day her new smile had been born. The day she realized it wasn't always like the movies. The day she realized that maybe, just maybe, Kurt wouldn't wake up. That maybe everything wouldn't be okay. His hand moved in hers again, this time gently grasping. She was drawn out of her thoughts as the hand she held suddenly flexed long fingers, before squeezing down on her hand. She looked up to see confused blue eyes looking into hers.<p>

* * *

><p>"Kurt. You're awake!"<p>

"Kurt. My name is...Kurt. Kurt Hummel."

"Yes?"

"Good. Okay. But...who are you?"

"DOCTOR!"

* * *

><p>Blaine's phone rang, muffled by the coat pocket he had forgotten it in. He rolled over, burying his face in his blankets and on he slept.<p>

"_Blaine, where are you? You need to get back here immediately. I hope this means you're finally sleeping, but just…come back as soon as you get this._"

* * *

><p>Mercedes held Kurt's hand as the doctors looked him over. Her head was buzzing. Kurt, her best friend in the entire world, had no idea who she was.<p>

* * *

><p>The beautiful, proud looking girl who he had woken up to-Mercedes?-held his hand. He didn't know her but it felt alright. It felt comfortable, like something he knew even if he couldn't remember.<p>

* * *

><p>A flurry of words flew around them. <em>Post-traumatic. Retrograde. Amnesia<em>. And they just clung to each others hands as the doctors explained that the head trauma he had experienced had caused him to lose his memory. His past was a blank to him. They didn't know how long it would take. They didn't know if he would ever remember. They didn't know what the extent of this was. He could feel his entire body shaking.

"Mercedes," she turned to him, hope alight in her eyes "why can I still understand French and I'm pretty sure that I could play a sonata, but I can't remember you. I feel like I should remember you."

"When you said my name…it sounded like it always had. I thought…maybe…"

"You feel familiar. You feel…right. But I still…don't remember anything. I'm so sorry." his eyes had tears in them.

"Oh Kurt-"

The door burst open as Burt, Carole and Finn rushed in, relieved smiles on their faces.

Only to be met with Kurt's blank stare, and Mercedes' pained face. Kurt turned to Mercedes, looking nervous. "Who are they? Should I know them too?"

Mercedes read the heartbreak on their faces, though Finn's was slightly diluted by the confused furrow of his eyebrows.

"Oh Kurt…baby, this is your family."

"…my family?" he stared at them, his lips pressed together and his eyes narrowed, trying to remember. But there was nothing for him to remember. They could have been any random people on the street. But…they were his family.

Carole gasped as tears filled his eyes, crossing the few steps between the door and the bed to lay a soothing hand on his face. "Kurt, honey, you've just woken up. It's okay, it's all going to be okay. Please don't cry, dearest."

He leaned his face into her hand and whispered "I can't remember my own family. I can't remember my own friends. I can't remember people who love me, who I know I love too. I know I love you, but I don't know why because I don't even know who you are."

And as the first tears spilled down his face he closed himself off from these…beloved strangers, shaking off their all too loving hands and words and he curled upon himself, the only thing that was remotely familiar to him, and cried his heart out.

* * *

><p>Blaine woke up slowly. He was comfortable, and he felt far better rested than he had since…well for a long time. And yet, despite the comfort and rest he felt…wrong. He didn't like the feeling of waking up without Kurt's gentle breathing from across the room. He didn't like the thought that he might have missed something. He rolled out of bed and all but ran to his bathroom, intending to have the quickest shower possible and be back to Kurt within the hour.<p>

* * *

><p>Blaine's phone rang three times before it went to voicemail, him not hearing it over the steady flow of water falling on his head.<p>

_"Blaine, dude. Where are you? Something happened. Please come to the hospital. You need to be here too. He needs you…and I think we need you too. Hurry_."

* * *

><p>The doctors were back, with more prodding and explanations. They told Burt and Carole everything they had said earlier. Amnesia. Kurt Hummel had amnesia. They didn't know when it would go away…if it would ever go away, or if he'd have to start from there, like that morning when he had woken up was the first of his life. One doctor, a tall, gentle woman, looked at him with a soft smile, "Kurt, hon. This might seem silly but can you try your very best to remember…anything. Even if it doesn't seem important, anything from before today." He sifted through his mind, and came upon it. The one memory he had access to.<p>

"It's just…white. A huge, white light. It's not like my mind is blank, it's like that was all I could see. And there is this…roaring sound. It's loud and close. And then I remember waking up here…with Mercedes."

"I would say it's safe to assume you are remembering the last moment before you blacked out…during the accident."

"Oh…right. That makes sense."

"It's a good sign, Kurt. It means your mind hasn't completely lost it's capacity to remember. You're going to have to go through a lot of tests, unfortunately. Now that you're awake we've got to figure out the extent of the damage."

"Can you tell me more about this accident? All I've got is the flash of light and that I ended up in the hospital…wait, how long have I been here?"

"Three months."

"Three months? I…what happened?"

"A pickup truck hit you…drunk driver. You've been in a coma ever since. We've all been waiting for you."

"The four of you?" He looked at Mercedes, eyes wide. "You would wait with me…for me to wake up?"

Four hearts broke at the tone of his voice-surprise.

"Honey, it's more than the four of us. So many people love you, and we've all been here as much as we could be, just being with you. Waiting for you to be ready to wake up."

"…I don't understand."

"Honey, we love you. All of us. So much."

Finn-his brother, apparently?-stalked back into the room snapping shut a cell phone as he did. "No answer"

"I would have chosen today to send him home. I've been trying for weeks and today is obviously the day it would actually happen."

"Mercedes, I forgot to ask but how did you even manage to get him out of here? Remember the last time? We had to wheel him out, unconscious, and he was back two hours later, absolutely furious. He can be kind of scary for such a little dude."

"I—I told him Kurt would hate to see him in such a mess. And I told him nothing would change while he was g-gone." Her voice crackled with barely restrained tears and she had to take a deep breath before she continued, "A-and now everything is c-changed and he isn't here. I p-promised everything w-would be o-okay."

* * *

><p>Finn Hudson watched as his brother stared at his best friend in horror and confusion. He watched the way his hand lifted towards her, seemingly out of instinct, before he looked even more confused and a little bit heartbroken and just curled the offending hand up against his chest. He watched his stepfather, the man he had come to respect and love so much in the past years, watch his son, he saw so much in the older man's eyes that he wasn't sure he even wanted to try to understand. The look in Burt Hummel's eyes as he looked at his son was so deeply private that he had to look away. His eyes landed on his mother, his safe haven, because she was always so strong and, as she looked at her second son with such heartbreak in her eyes, something in Finn broke.<p>

* * *

><p>Blaine ran out of his apartment, barely remembering to lock the door. And inside, forgotten along with the jacket that had been ignored in his haste to get back, his phone rang.<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Blaine you fucking douche. Everyone is fucking falling apart and you aren't fucking here. He fucking loved you forever and you can't even fucking be here for him now. Fuck you, man. Fuck you. He's my brother and he doesn't know me. He doesn't know his father or his best friend and you aren't fucking here to see Mercedes trying not to cry. And you aren't here to see Burt fucking break and you aren't here to see my fucking mom's eyes. You aren't even here to lie through your teeth and tell everyone you know it'll be alright. You aren't here to look at him like he's the only thing you see. You can be strong and ridiculously present when he's just lying there and it's so damn hard but at least nothing is changing, but you leave and everything is different, and he's sitting up and talking but he doesn't know who he's talking to—not really and you're fucking missing in action. Just…"<em> and here Finn's voice broke and he realized what he was doing and he quieted down because maybe he was swearing and yelling a bit too much for a quiet hospital hallway "_please come back, Blaine. You're one of us now. You're family. And we need you here. He needs you here."_ And Finn closed the phone and slowly slid down the wall, his head in his hands. His mind wouldn't stop replaying everything that had happened. From the first time he saw fierce, brave Kurt broken and bruised and barely breathing in that stupid bed, to Kurt sitting up, confused and scared with that blank look in his eyes, to his heartbroken family. And all too suddenly hot tears were falling down his face.

* * *

><p>Blaine was at a stop light when he realized he didn't have his phone. With a shrug he turned up the radio and smiled. He would be seeing Kurt soon enough, who cared if he missed a text or two from Wes or Rachel or whoever. He wondered if it was weird to be content to spend all his time looking at the motionless, beautiful boy in that bed, that he had stopped basically everything just to be at his side. He shook his head, trying to stop himself from wandering down the path that still terrified him so completely, even after all that time. Then a song he knew came on so Blaine turned the music up and sang along as loudly as he could.<p>

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I wish…I wish I could remember. I want to remember so badly. Anything at all. I…I'm sorry that you've all waited so long and it's for nothing. I don't know anyone but…myself."<p>

"What can you tell me about yourself?" the gentle doctor smiled at him.

"I'm Kurt Hummel. My birthday is June 23rd…I'm twenty-two. I speak fluent French, I can play the piano. I could make you a souffle right now, from scratch. And there's always music. I love music. "

"Can you remember any specific music?"

"Kind of. Only stupid songs though. _The snack that smiles back until you bite it's head off!_" he flashed a wry smile as he sang the _goldfish_ jingle, "Stuff like that. There's other music, but I can't quite remember it. It's strange. It's like..." he looked at his hands which were knotted in the thin, itchy hospital blanket. "I think I associated everything in my life with music. I don't have any of that music without the memories."

The doctor made a gentle humming sound and then said "What if we were to-"

* * *

><p>Blaine walked into the hospital, oddly elated to be back there at last. One elevator and two hallways and he'd see Kurt's face, hear him breathing and the weight that rested on his chest every time Kurt was out of his sight would be gone, finally. Even in sleep he never quite escaped it. He thought vaguely back to his non-dreams and realized that the long weeks of a crappy cot and frequently bypassing sleep to look at the way the moonlight made Kurt into something entirely ethereal were all that had made that trek home restful in any way. And maybe he had needed it, but he needed to be back even more. He stepped out of the elevator to see a body slumped against the wall, head in his hands. And a wracking sob broke through. Suddenly Blaine's world narrowed down to those shaking shoulders, and that horrible, horrible broken sound.<p>

"Finn?" _Please be someone else, please don't be who I think you are._

He looked up slowly and Blaine saw tears and red rimmed eyes and a running nose and his mind cut out for a second. He couldn't hear or see or think. Because Finn was crying. Strong, brave, I'm-too-much-of-a-man-to-break-down-and-cry Finn. And he was crying.

"Blaine…dude. It's Kurt. He—."

Blaine didn't hear the rest because he was too busy running down the hallway, Finn standing clumsily behind him, stumbling a bit as he made to follow._ It's Kurt. It's Kurt. It's Kurt_. Blaine could only hear those words repeated over and over in that voice that he didn't want to analyse until he had seen for himself. Finn loved Kurt—maybe not the way Kurt had wished way back in their sophomore year, but he did love him. And the tall boy had sounded wrecked. And Blaine couldn't think about what would cause Finn, with his constant need to appear unshaken, an unbreakable wall between the people he loved and the world, to look like that, to break in the middle of the hall and cry.

He slammed the door open, Finn right at his back.

"Blaine!"

All the eyes in the room turned to him. There was Burt Hummel, a man who had once literally drawn a shotgun on him, still looking protective as hell, but also scared and shaken. There was Carole, accepting, silently understanding and sweet. There was Mercedes, who had promised to call him, who had promised everything would be okay, but he had seen Finn crying and he didn't know what anything meant. There was a tall blonde woman with kind eyes and a coat that screamed doctor.

All he wanted was to look at the bed but he couldn't. His head was screaming that he had to just look, just see, he had to know. His heart was screaming that looking to that bed might be the breaking point. That maybe he wouldn't be strong enough to see what had broken Finn. His head and his heart fought, and all he could feel was this numbness and terror and he didn't know what to do at all.

**_"Before you met me, I was alright but things were kind of heavy. You brought me to life."_**

* * *

><p>The doctor was interrupted as the door slammed open and a man came rushing in.<p>

And things came rushing back.

Kurt was suddenly sixteen again. And there was a beautiful boy standing in front of him, singing and smiling.

This man wasn't singing and he certainly wasn't smiling. His terrified eyes flashed from face to face, but they never landed on Kurt. He was dimly aware of Finn hulking behind him in the doorway, he was vaguely aware of the surprise on all the faces in the room. But none of that mattered.

Because he had remembered something. Because of this man.

His hair was longer, and no longer tamed by massive amounts of product, his face was stubbly and he looked more worn than he had at sixteen. But those wide, frightened eyes were the same as the smiling eyes in his memory.

And then he realized he had a song. He could remember a song, the first words he had ever heard sung by the most beautiful voice he had ever known. He smiled a bit at how relevant the lyrics were.

**_"Before you met me, I was alright but things were kind of heavy. You brought me to life."_**

* * *

><p>Blaine, for all his reluctance to look towards that bed, almost gave himself whiplash when he heard Kurt's voice. It wasn't as pure as it had been when they were sixteen, it was worn by time and experience and disuse, and it was still the most beautiful sound Blaine had ever, would ever know. And then hazel eyes met blue and nothing else mattered. Not the gasps of surprise from Mercedes and Carole and Burt. Not the confused look on Finn's face. Not the smile on the doctor's face. Because Kurt's eyes were open.<p>

* * *

><p>The man snapped out of whatever trance he had gone into when their eyes met, and before Kurt really knew what was happening he was standing at his side, still staring into his eyes. Kurt was suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to grab onto his man and hold him forever. Which was entirely inappropriate because he still didn't really have any idea who this man was. But he had also been in a coma for three months, and he was scared and confused and this man, whoever he was, was literally the only thing he could remember at all. So he reached out a thin, pale hand to touch the tanned, calloused one that lay on the rail of his bed.<p>

At his touch the man jumped and then whirled to Mercedes and said "What's wrong with him?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Excuse me?<em>"

"Well it's nice to see he hasn't lost his bitch face." Finn said casually from across the room.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong with him?" Blaine demanded once more. Because something was definitely wrong. Kurt had touched him. If everything was the same, that wouldn't have happened.<p>

He ignored the affronted look on Kurt's face, he ignored the way his head was spinning and his heart was pounding and his hand was on_ fire_, and he looked from Mercedes to the doctor.

"Someone tell me. _Now._"

There was something in Blaine's voice that seemed to frighten everyone else. That he was a bit frightened of. Something wild, barely contained. And nobody was saying anything.

"I have amnesia. Post-traumatic, retrograde. I can remember physical things, or impersonal things. But my own memories, my past...they're just not there. Except for..." Kurt cut himself off, looking down at his lap where his hands were curled together. His fingers tingled from where they had touched the man. He didn't know what that meant, and it terrified him just a little bit.

"Oh."

"Yep. And on that note, who exactly are you?"

"I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

"Right, so why would I remember you?"

"I thought you didn't remember anything."

"I didn't. Then you walked in here, and suddenly I remembered you singing, once upon a time. And your hair is longer, and your eyes are sadder, but I remembered you. I...remember you. So tell me, Blaine Anderson, what does that mean? Why would I remember you singing some...stupid fucking song, fucking six years ago, when I can't fucking remember my fucking family? When I can't fucking remember anything else, but I can remember you with your fucking insane amounts of hair product and your fucking perfect voice. And just...who the fuck are you?" His voice broke and, once again, tears were spilling down his face.

"I-" Blaine's panicked eyes flashed from Kurt to everyone else in the room. And his hand ran through his curls and he wanted to pull Kurt to his chest and hold him there forever, protect him from everything that made him cry. But Blaine made him cry. So how could he protect Kurt when it was always _his fault?_

* * *

><p>The man...<em>Blaine<em> stared at him, and maybe he didn't know how expressive his hazel eyes were but Kurt watched the struggle going on behind them until Blaine suddenly turned on his heel and walked into the hallway.

The room suddenly felt a thousand times bigger, and a thousand times smaller. It suddenly felt like there was not enough air. He couldn't breathe, he gasped for air in short, broken sobs. And then Mercedes was there, her arms around him.

"Shhh, baby, shhh. Don't worry about Blaine. This is...difficult for everyone. But I can tell you right now, he isn't gone. He's probably standing right outside that door, shaking like a leaf, trying to figure out what the right thing to do is. Blaine's just like that, and you kind of bring out the crazy in the poor boy."

"I don't understand, Mercedes. Who is he?"

"You've known him for a long time."

"I'm in love with him, aren't I?"

"Oh Kurt."

And that was all the answer he needed.

* * *

><p>Mercedes was right.<p>

Blaine leaned up against the wall directly across from Kurt's door, staring at nothing. His heart was still pounding, and his hand was still burning where Kurt had touched him.

Carole slipped out of the room, a gentle smile on her face.

"Blaine." Her voice was so soft, and so sweet, and Blaine was so broken.

* * *

><p>Finn watched Mercedes whisper to his brother. He watched Burt hover, unsure of what to do. His mother had gone to Blaine, because she always just knew. Kurt's eyes flashed up to his face, over-bright and suddenly focussed.<p>

"Get Blaine, Finn. Please."

Finn nodded and slipped out of the room to find Blaine crying in his mother's arms.

"Oh, Blaine, honey. It's all going to be alright." Her hand was rubbing soothing circles across his back and her eyes had tears in them when they met Finn's.

"Uh...Blaine?"

Blaine looked up, seemingly a little bit flustered to be caught crying on Carole's shoulder. "Mhm?" he whispered, as he tried to wipe his eyes on his sleeve.

"Kurt. He uh, asked for you."

* * *

><p>The door opened and Blaine walked back in.<p>

He had clearly been crying.

Kurt felt like his heart was breaking-and wasn't that absolutely frightening?-He had never felt anything like the physical pain this other man's sadness caused in his chest, or maybe he had. He just didn't remember it.

"D-dad...Mercedes...could you give us a moment? I'd...like to speak to Blaine. Alone."

Mercedes kissed his cheek softly and then walked to Blaine and hugged him tight. Kurt was sure she whispered something in the other man's ear.

Burt Hummel stared down at his son for a moment and then nodded and walked out without acknowledging Blaine at all.

* * *

><p>"I think he's hurt that I remember you and not him." Kurt whispered to Blaine once everyone was gone. "I don't know how to help that though. I wish I remembered all of them."<p>

Blaine stayed near the door, not looking at Kurt. Looking carefully at anything that wasn't Kurt, actually.

"Blaine."

Hazel eyes flashed to blue, surprised and scared and a thousand other things that Kurt could barely understand.

"Come here please."

Blaine didn't tell his body to move, all he knew was the he was suddenly at Kurt's side, still locked in the depths of those eyes.

"Can you do me a favour...please?" Blaine nodded mutely. "Can you...just speak for a second. Tell me what it was like when I wasn't here or something. I just...I need to check something. Could you please?"

"Y-yeah, okay. What do you want...what should I..."

"Anything. Just...talk." When Blaine still looked kind of lost Kurt whispered "Tell me about when you found out...and go from there?"

"Okay. Yeah. I can do that."

A hand swiped through unruly curls and Kurt's mind flashed to frantic studying before exams, soft hair free from gel and standing almost straight up from the abuse being inflicted by nervous hands.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"W-what?"

"Blaine, you only do that," He gestured to the hand still tangled in his hair, "when you're nervous."

"How do you know that?"

"I remembered it. Just now. I keep remembering things about you. I don't understand it, so don't ask. Sometimes you do things and I just...recognize them. But I recognize them in specific context. With Mercedes and Carole and Dad and Finn they feel familiar, but I can't place it. With you, there are actual flashes of things. Actual reasons why you're familiar. Why you feel like home."

"I was in England...when I found out. About the accident."

"E-England? You weren't..here?"

"No. I haven't lived here in three years."

"Why?"

"I had no reason to be here."

* * *

><p>Seven words and Kurt feels like his entire world has spiralled away. Not that his world was a solid thing anyways, but now it's just dark and terrifying, and Blaine <em>had no reason to be there.<em>

* * *

><p>"Oh."<p>

"So, I was living in England, working on a novel. I was living in this flat in downtown London. I was sitting by the window, staring into the street with my laptop in front of me and my phone started ringing. I looked at the screen and it was a number I never thought I'd see again. So I answered."

"Whose number?"

"Yours."

"Oh."

"But it wasn't you on the other end. It was Mercedes. And she told me you had been in an accident three days before. And that things weren't looking so good. And she was crying, and she told me that if I wanted my chance to say goodbye, I'd better get my ass here as soon as I could. She told me if I didn't want to come I didn't have to, but that she thought I deserved to know, at least. Your heart stopped during that phone call. I was doing the worlds quickest packing job, and getting the details from her and I heard you flatline. I heard it through the phone, I heard Mercedes' scream your name. I heard people rushing around. She dropped the phone but I was still on the line. I was standing in the middle of that flat and you were dead, an ocean away. It was..maybe only a minute...possibly two. I don't know. For me, it was forever. I stood there and I couldn't move or think or breathe and...and..._you died_. You were _dead_." Suddenly Blaine's eyes flashed up to the startled look on Kurt's face and he flinched, "Oh. I-I wasn't going to tell you that. Crap. Fuck. Shit. I wasn't going to...and..." Blaine's voice broke a little bit, he was staring at nothing. His face had paled and he was holding onto the bedrail like it was the only thing keeping him standing. His eyes were unfocused, seeing something else, full of terror and tears and Kurt was pretty sure his heart couldn't handle much more time with this version of Blaine. Because when Blaine was broken, Kurt was broken too.

"Blaine." Gentle, easing him out of whatever he was reliving. "Blaine, I didn't die. I'm not dead. I'm here. I'm awake. I'm not perfect and I'm kind of especially broken right now, but I am here. Stop. Please, just...stop."

"Kurt." His name came out like a sob, and it was the first time Blaine had said it since he stepped into the hospital room.

* * *

><p>"<em>Kurt." Blaine breathed his name in the space between their lips, "I-I love you." Hazel eyes widened, and he had never said that before, but god, he meant it. Blue eyes had widened and Blaine was brought back to the first time he had kissed him, over a casket for a dead bird, of all things, and he had rambled and stumbled his way towards that kiss, and Kurt had looked just like this then too. Shocked, surprised, like he was trying to figure out what was real. "You don't have to say it back. You don't have to love me too. I...I have terrible timing, clearly. Because I kissed you over a coffin and I just told you I love you in a<em> parking lot._ God what's wrong with me? I'm the least romantic person in the entire world, clearly. But it's...it's true. I just should have shouted it from a rooftop or serenaded you. This should have been perfect, you deserve perf-mmph" His incessant rambling was cut off by Kurt's lips and he could have stayed that way forever. But Kurt pulled back and laughed a little bit._

_"Blaine. I love you. This is perfect. You are perfect, I love everything about you, Blaine. Including your terrible timing."_

_More kisses, more _I love you_'s in the spaces between their lips. Perfect._

* * *

><p>When the sudden memory let him go, Kurt knew he was crying. Because now he knew that Blaine had definitely loved him once, it wasn't just an unrequited painful longing for his best friend like he had started to suspect. It was love. They had been in love. And now Blaine jumped away when Kurt touched him and he lived in <em>England<em>.

He felt Blaine's hand hovering close to his cheek, near the burning trails left by his tears. "Please don't cry." Blaine whispered, "I don't know what you remembered but please, please don't cry."

"H-how do you know I r-remembered something?"

"I can see it in your eyes. They aren't quite here when the memories hit you. You go somewhere else. You go back to...wherever."

"I think it's b-because my brain struggles to grasp anything, so I can't remember a-and focus all at once."

"What were you remembering, Kurt? Why did it make you cry?"

"No. I...I just can't tell you that."

"Me, then? Because you're kind of an open book. You kind of tell everyone everything. You used to tell me everything...you always had more trouble with it though...when you thought it might...hurt me...or be something I didn't want to hear."

"..."

"What type of tears are these?" Blaine said, looking sad as his fingers swept just above Kurt's skin, never touching.

"Salty."

"Kurt." he admonished, his face soft with amusement, but also stern with his need for proper answers, "Good or bad?"

"Both. It's always both, with you."

"Explain?"

"I'm tired Blaine. Please don't make me do this right now."

"Okay, want me to get your dad?"

"No. Please stay...well...if you want to."

"Always."

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it. 3<br>Next chapter should be up soon! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Author: dinosaur-idontcare  
>Title: Only My Heart Knows<br>Rating: T (but this is subject to change)  
>Word Count: 2, 434<br>Spoilers: None  
>Warnings: Language<br>Notes: I own nothing but the ideas and the words. I'm not a doctor. AU after prom queen.

enjoy :)

* * *

><p>Kurt had fallen asleep, eventually. They hadn't talked about anything serious, after that, just music and the newest issue of Vogue, which Kurt had lunged for when he saw it on his bedside table. Blaine was still awake, his eyes tracing delicately over the planes of Kurt's face, so lovely in repose.<p>

Blaine hated himself. He hated what he had done to Kurt, what he had done to Kurt's family. What he had done to himself. Just because he was a coward. Because he was too terrified to just be a man, to stop running away, for once in his life. Blaine had spent twenty-three years pretending like he was something other than a stupid, frightened little boy. But that was all he had ever really been. Stupid and afraid. Weak.

"You look so sad, Blaine." Kurt's voice cut through his thoughts, Blaine hadn't realized the other man had woken up but when he looked up it was to vivid blue eyes that raked his face before settling on his eyes, seeing straight through him just like they always had. "You always did that, you know."

"Did what?"

"Thought too much."

* * *

><p>"Blaine, why are you here?"<p>

"What do you mean?"

"Not that I don't appreciate it, it's just that everyone else comes and goes but you're always here. I just...don't you have things to do?"

"Not really, actually. I have an apartment here, but I'm never really there so I don't need to do groceries or anything. and I'm an author, so I can do that anywhere."

"But why would you choose here?"

"Because it's where you are, silly."

* * *

><p>"Seriously Blaine? You're <em>sleeping<em> here?"

"Is that a problem? The nurses don't mind...but I can totally go if you want."

"No...it's just...you're here all the time?"

"Pretty much."

"I don't understand."

"What don't you understand?"

"Why you'd want to stay here with me all the time."

"Because you went a woke up the first time I left for more than an hour. I don't want to miss anything else."

"Wh-what?"

"What?"

"For more than _an hour_?"

"Uh...yes?"

"Blaine that's crazy! Why on earth would you want to spend all your time here? It's dreadful!"

"You're stuck in here, Kurt. I wasn't going to leave you alone in this stupid room."

"I was in a coma, Blaine."

"Still. It's a horrible room, I didn't like the idea of you being alone here, with nobody for company, you know?"

"So you practically hospitalized yourself as well?"

"I guess so. The nurses all love me and nobody ever needed the other bed, so they didn't mind letting me stay."

"You are certifiably insane, Blaine Anderson."

"I like to think it's one of my best qualities."

* * *

><p>It was the middle of the night and Blaine woke up to soft moonlight and broken sobs.<p>

"Kurt?"

"I-I miss mommy. Daddy, where did mommy go?"

Blaine froze in place, unsure of what to do. Elizabeth Hummel had been dead for more than a decade, but the pain in Kurt's voice was so raw and he almost sounded like a child when he spoke through his tears. Because suddenly Kurt wasn't a twenty-two year old, with enough time to dull some of the pain left by the death of his mother, no, in that moment Kurt was a frightened child who had just lost his beloved mother, a child whose entire world was turned upside down by the quick work of disease, who last saw his mother in a room so very similar to this one. His mother had whispered "_I'll see you soon, sweetheart_." but she had lied to him, just that once, because she never opened her eyes again.

"Daddy, I d-don't understand where m-m-mommy went...she said she'd s-see me soon. She p-promised she wouldn't l-leave me, d-d-daddy...she promised! B-but she's g-gone and sh-she promised me."

"Kurt, it's alright. It's going to be alright, don't worry." Blaine said in a low voice, standing from his bed and going closer to Kurt's.

"It's n-never going t-to be alright again. I'll h-have nobody to l-l-l-love me n-now." Now that Blaine was next to Kurt's bed he could clearly see his face and it absolutely broke his heart. His big, lovely eyes had tears falling from them and his lips were trembling, his entire body was trembling as he curled his legs up to his chest and cried into his knees. "N-nobody will love m-me. I'll b-be alone, I-I need my m-mommy."

"Kurt, please don't. Please. So many people love you, so very much. Don't ever think that you'll be alone, or unloved. So many people want to give you all the love in the world, please don't ever forget that. Your father, your friends, your family...me."

Suddenly Kurt's eyes focussed on Blaine for the first time, recognizing him at last, something flickering to life from behind the sadness, "Blaine. Why won't you touch me?"

And well, that was the last thing Blaine expected to hear, but with tears still running down porcelain cheeks and that fire blazing where there had only been absolute despair seconds before, Blaine felt the truth slip off his lips.

"You don't want me to."

"Excuse me?"

"You told me once that you never wanted me to touch you again. I didn't want to disrespect your wishes."

"What if those weren't my wishes any more?"

"You don't remember though...what if you change your mind?"

"Then I'll tell you. But for now, could you please stop treating me like some kind of leper?"

"But-"

"You don't have to, honestly, but I'd kind of really like it if you'd just hold my hand right now."

Blaine's eyes softened and he slid their hands together.

* * *

><p>Mercedes walked in the next morning to find both boys sleeping peacefully, Blaine's head resting near Kurt's hip on the bed, their hands still tangled together between them. She smiled at them and decided to go get a coffee, shutting the door softly behind her.<p>

* * *

><p>Just like it had never felt right to be away from Kurt's room for too long once he had come back, when Blaine was allowed to touch him again, he didn't feel quite as right when their hands weren't twined together, or his fingers weren't brushing unruly bangs off Kurt's forehead ("<em>My hair was clearly left to it's own devices for far too long, ugh!" "It looks perfect to me.<em>"). Kurt seemed to feel similarly, reaching up to play with Blaine's curls, or resting a hand delicately on his arm. If anyone else had noticed the way that they had basically tethered themselves together, they didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>Everyone else had definitely noticed, and they all shared private smiles that neither of the two caught.<p>

* * *

><p>"Finn Hudson! If you don't move your gigantic body out of my way right this second I will not be held accountable for the things that I will do to get you to move!"<p>

"What is that?" Kurt whispered to Blaine, eyes wide.

"San!" Blaine said, grinning.

Before Kurt could say anything the door opened all the way and a gorgeous young woman walked in, her eyes blazing and her walk brisk.

"I swear, Finn gets more annoying every time I see him."

"Hey! I am standing right here!" Finn snapped, walking into the room behind her with a frown on his face.

"Okay fine, Finn you absolutely get more annoying every time I see you." she shrugged but her face had softened with a smile when she turned back to the bed. "Kurt, honey, I've missed you!" She leant down to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"I don't-who are you?"

"The one and only Santana Lopez, darling."

* * *

><p><em>That same pretty face, but somehow harsher. A red, white and black uniform and hair pulled back into a bouncing ponytail. Mile long legs and swaying hips with every step and a coy smile on bright red lips underneath ice cold eyes.<em>

_"Get the hell out of my way, homo. Shouldn't you be peeking in the mens locker room instead of blocking up the hallways, anyways? Santana Lopez has things to do, and if you aren't going to look at my boobs while I do them then you best get the fuck out of my path." Such a pretty face and such ugly words. She glared at him and pushed past him, making him stumble just a little bit. And in that moment, Kurt hated her._

* * *

><p>"Why are you here?" He said, voice cold.<p>

The smile slipped slightly off her face, confusion replacing it. "What?"

"Why. Are. You. Here? We aren't friends. You hate me and I hate you. God, this is low even for you. What kind of sick joke is this? Is it come play mind games with the hospitalized homo day or something? Is this your idea of fun?" His voice was heated with anger and cold with a bitter mockery. Blaine saw hurt, confusion and surprise flash across Santana's face and he saw the slight tremble of her hands.

"I...I came to see you Kurt...I..um...'Cedes told me you had woken up and I wanted to...see you."

"I didn't get to tell her before she came in." Finn whispered to Blaine, who was looking at Kurt with calculating eyes.

"Tell me what?"

Before Finn could say anything Blaine had turned to Kurt with an almost painfully gentle expression on his face, "Kurt, Santana isn't who she used to be."

"Blaine. She is dreadful! I remember!"

"You're not remembering everything else though. You're probably remembering the first time you met her. Because if you remembered anything from later on, you'd probably be in her arms right about now. You and Santana are friends, Kurt. You love each other."

"She called me a homo. She pushed me. I really don't think I love her at all."

Blaine opened his mouth to speak but Santana's voice cut him off, sounding devastated, "Kurt...you really don't remember anything besides that?"

"No, I can't remember much of anything...and I can't help the things I do remember." He said, voice just slightly warmer but still bordering on glacial.

"Remember this then." She reached out, tentative, and took his hand, smiling gratefully when he didn't pull away. "I know what I was like at the start of high school. I was dreadful. I hated everyone else, because I hated myself. I didn't know how to let people in, so I did everything I could to push them away. I joined Glee club as a joke, as a spy, I can hardly remember now, and I really don't care, because it was the best thing that ever happened to me. You all became my family, somehow. You taught me that other people could love me, and that I could love myself. That music room became my home, I didn't have to fake anything for all of you. I could be an outcast, a misfit, a_ lesbian_ and you all loved me despite that, you loved me for that. There were still days when we fought and hated each other and my god, we all came so close to quitting, so many times, but we stuck it out and at the end of it all we loved each other (even if I spent half my time wanting to strangle Rachel Berry.) We've come a long way since sophomore year, Kurt. And I know you don't remember it right now, but you're one of my best friends, Kurt Hummel. And I love you. I am so incredibly sorry that I ever hurt you, just because back then I was far too stupid to realize how absolutely wonderful you are. I'm just...I'm really sorry, for everything. And I hope you'll give me a chance because I've really, really missed you." Tears were falling from her eyes by the end of it, and she wouldn't look up from where her hands were wrapped around his free hand.

Kurt looked at the beautiful, crying girl and he could see how genuinely she meant what she said. He cursed his memory loss, once again, because he wanted to remember this girl and their supposed friendship. All of it, not just one bad memory. Then he remembered the way Blaine's face had lit up when he realized whose voice it was and that was what made his decision for him. Because Blaine did know this Santana. Blaine loved this Santana. Blaine wasn't the sort of person who would could love someone like the person Santana had been, and Blaine was also a horrible liar which meant that if he said Santana was a friend, she was.

Santana looked up when Kurt gently squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry too, you know." He said in a low voice, "I'm sorry that I can't remember everything, because I'd really like to. I'm sorry I can't remember how or when or why we became friends, but I'm not sorry that we did. I'm just going to need you to remind me of it all, okay?"

"Of course." She whispered, leaning close to kiss his cheek again.

* * *

><p>Santana stayed for a long time that afternoon, poking fun at Finn (who pretty much just lurked around awkwardly at the foot of the bed the whole time), telling Kurt more about the glee club where he had found a family; a sanctuary; his whole world back when he was a sophomore, she told him stories about his days as a cheerleader and talked about her lover, Brittany, with this look in her eyes that told him that the blonde was the most precious person in Santana's life. That Brittany was the love of Santana's life. And it was beautiful to see, and he really was so happy for them both, but it also burned in his chest because he knew he had found that person too, a lifetime ago, and lost them somehow. He didn't know how it was even possible to miss someone who was sitting right next to his bed the whole time, laughing with Santana and holding Kurt's hand, but god, he did, so very much.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>review? <strong>

short chapter, but i felt like there was a lot there anyways and it was just the time to end it. the next one should be around soon.  
>also, yes, you will get Blaine and Kurt's backstory later on in the story. and they had already broken up long before Kurt got in that accident, just because there was some confusion there.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay, i've had this done for a while but whenever i had time i didn't have internet connection and vice versa.  
>this is a short chapter, but i think it's pretty necessary. bare with me, things are about to get exciting.<br>disclaimer: i'm pretty sure i'd have noticed if i owned glee.  
>enjoy! :)<p>

* * *

><p>Walking is something that Blaine had always taken for granted. He knew he hadn't always been able to, of course, but the transition from being cradled in caring arms, to crawling, to those first shaking steps, to running and jumping hadn't ever seemed that difficult a process to him. Children did it every day.<p>

Kurt wasn't a child. And he didn't get to start cradled, he didn't get to start small and unsure and work his way forward. Not because anybody was pushing him though, no that was because Kurt only knew how to push himself and so he did.

It's not easy to get back on your feet when your feet have forgotten what you feel like.

Blaine couldn't do anything to stop Kurt from pushing himself so damn hard, he couldn't do anything to stop Kurt from almost breaking himself with his stubbornness. But he could always catch Kurt when he stumbled.

* * *

><p>The first time Blaine thought it was a fluke, honestly. He had walked in the room with two cups of coffee and a smile to find Kurt balanced on the very edge of his bed, staring at his feet like they had the answers to all his questions. His brow was furrowed and he was biting his lip and Blaine took a moment just to look because Kurt didn't know he was there yet, and Kurt was just so absolutely lovely that he really couldn't have helped himself if he tried. As he stood watching thin arms fluttered into motion, pushing against the bed as he carefully levered himself to his feet. He stood there for a moment, a smile lighting his face, before his knees gave out and he crumpled forward.<p>

Blaine didn't mind sacrificing the coffees to catch Kurt before he hit the ground.

* * *

><p>The second time Blaine was a bit more frustrated as he lowered Kurt back to his bed, watching as his eyes tried to refocus and Kurt tried to blearily fight his way back through the fog of dizziness his little stunt had caused him.<p>

"Kurt, what on earth are you thinking?"

"I want to walk. I want to dance. I hate this bed, Blaine. I _hate_ it."

"Kurt, you have to be more careful." He whispered, "You could hurt yourself."

"I'm not a porcelain doll, Blaine."

* * *

><p>The third time Blaine realized it wasn't an accident at all. Kurt had begged him to go get him a mocha and he had come back to find Kurt standing on long, thin legs and staring at the ground with a determined look in his eyes.<p>

Blaine placed the coffees down and watched with nervous eyes as Kurt managed to shift his left foot forward, followed by his right foot. He made it four steps before he passed out.

* * *

><p>Kurt woke up on the floor, his body cradled against something soft and warm, something that smelt like cinnamon and sunshine and something distinctly <em>Blaine.<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>You smell like heaven, I think." Kurt whispered into the crook of Blaine's neck, head all loopy from the tequila or maybe just from <em>Blaine_. He would be beating himself up for his foolish, drunken words the next day, of course. Because they were seventeen and Kurt was the only one of them who knew he was in love._

"_I highly doubt that heaven would smell anything like me, Kurt." _

"_It has to, Blaine. At least part of it, otherwise it wouldn't be heaven."_

"_and why is that?"_

"_Because if you aren't an angel than there is no such thing."_

* * *

><p>It took Kurt a few moments, caught up in the newest memory as he was, to realize that Blaine was <em>shaking<em>.

His head was spinning and okay, maybe that hadn't been his best idea, but he just wanted to be able to do that one simple thing so badly.

"Blaine...you're shaking."

"I'm angry."

"But why?"

"Because you're a fucking idiot."

Kurt was stunned into silence, Blaine was never anything but sweet, and he never _swore _at Kurt.

"I can't fucking _believe_ you sometimes Kurt._ What is the matter with you_?"

"I haven't a clue what you mean, Blaine." He whispered, voice carefully neutral as his head started to clear and _hurt. _

"I know what you've been doing. I thought I was crazy, but I'm not."

"I haven't been doing _anything, _Blaine."

"You wait until I leave and then you try and get out of bed. And I'm sick of coming in here and being _terrified _that I won't manage to catch you before you fall."

"I don't need you to catch me."

"Yes, you do."

"I just want to walk. I don't want to do this any more, Blaine. I don't want to be weak and pathetic, I want to be able to stand up and walk to the bathroom by myself. I want to be able to walk so that I can get out of here. You can't make me stop. I won't."

"I don't want you to stop. You took four steps today and I've never been so proud in my life. I just want you to stop being so stubborn and let me _help."_

"It's so embarrassing though. I don't want you to see it, okay? I don't want you to look at me and pity me or think I'm sad or pathetic or anything. That's why I made sure you were never here. I hate knowing I'm weak, I don't want you to know it too."

"Kurt, you're the strongest person I know. You always have been and you always will be."

"I don't feel strong."

"But you are, god Kurt, _you are_."

* * *

><p>With Blaine's arms fluttering by his sides, prepared to catch Kurt whenever he stumbled, and Kurt's jaw locked with his determination, they started a quiet training regimen of their own. Kurt's favourite doctor, who insisted that both boys call her Amanda, let them be once she saw how attuned Blaine was to Kurt. With soft blue eyes she watched him hover like an anxious mother, she watched him lunge in to catch Kurt before it had even registered with anyone else in the room that he was falling. She watched the way Kurt would reach out instinctively towards Blaine when he needed a hand, regardless of who else was in the room.<p>

* * *

><p>Three weeks. It took Kurt three weeks to walk alone from his bed, out of his room and down the hallway to the elevators. It's a small victory, but it's still a <em>victory <em>so that's all that matters in that moment.

* * *

><p><strong><em>review?<br>_**you are all _awesome, _thank you for everything, and again, please forgive me for the delay and the length of this chapter. it was about a page and a half longer originally but that got cut, because some bits fit better within chapter four (which is nearly done!) and it just seemed like a lot of excess for this chapter, so yeah. :P

anyways, chapter four will be up as soon as i can.


	4. Chapter 4

**I am so incredibly sorry for the delay. I've just moved from my momma's house for the first time ever and between packing and moving and unpacking and trying to settle into my life and new roommates and being out on my own, it's been hectic and we only just got internet today so this is literally the soonest i could get this to you all. (it means i'm actually further on the next chapter though, because this one was done and just waiting for the internet connection that meant i could give it to you!) the usual warnings and disclaimers apply and i hope you'll all continue to bear with me. my life has been crazy lately and i don't want to make promises i can't keep but i am seriously hoping i can update much faster from here on out.**

**thank you all, for everything.**

**enjoy.**

* * *

><p>Kurt walked better and better every single day, getting farther and farther through the halls of the hospital, Blaine by his side. Sometimes Blaine told elaborate stories about the friends they shared-stories that Kurt had once known for himself, sometimes they sang softly together, sometimes they were silent. Sometimes other people tagged along, but Blaine was always there.<p>

* * *

><p>Blaine was there the first day Kurt managed to walk all the way to the hospital entrance. Blaine held him while he shook and looked at the doors that lead from everything he knew to the world he couldn't remember. Blaine held his hand as they stepped through the doors, smiling gently as he watched Kurt take in the flowers and benches that surrounded them (Blaine had taken them to the garden entrance without telling Kurt, knowing that it was probably the loveliest way to reintroduce Kurt to the outside world).<p>

* * *

><p>Blaine was there the day Burt brought a letter and an angry face to the garden where they sat under a lilac tree.<p>

_Dear Mr. Hummel, _

_We regret to inform you that we can no longer hold your apartment for you. The demand is too high to reserve it for an absent tenant. You may reapply once you are released from hospital but until such a time as you have reapplied for your lease the suite in question is no longer yours under contract. Any remaining payments you have on your contract will be nullified. And your belongings will be put into a storage facility until such a time as you decide to retrieve them. _

_All the best, _

_Management_

Kurt paled visibly and his hands shook as he whispered, "...I don't have a home anymore."

"You can come live with Carole and I for the time being, Kurt. We're not going to abandon you."

"I don't even_ live_ in Ohio, dad. It makes no sense for me to stay here. My job is in New York. Everything I own is in New York. My life is apparently in New York and I have to go back. I have to get out of here and try and find a new place to live a-and I just...I just...can't..." with a heaving sob Kurt curled up on himself, whimpering words like _home _and _belonging _and _absolutely nowhere._

* * *

><p>Blaine was there when Kurt stopped crying, with gentle words, gentler hands and an idea.<p>

"You can go back to New York, you know."

"I can't though. I don't have the money to get a new lease for an apartment in the city, not after the hospital bills and everything. God Blaine...I was finally free of Ohio and now this."

"You can go back to New York, Kurt."

"Are you not listening to me or something? I just said-"

"I know what you said, but you can still go back."

"How?"

"Live with me."

"...w-what?"

"My parents have a property in the city that they've been keeping in the hopes of luring me back into the country. It's not a whole lot but it could be home."

* * *

><p>"<em>You are my home, Kurt. You've always been my home. You found me that day and you brought me back from nothing. I needed you before I knew I needed anything. I don't care where we're living, what we're doing, as long as I'm with you I'm home." <em>

"_Blainers, oh my god. You sound like a book by Nicolas Sparks. Please just show me this song and stop talking before I start vomiting rainbows and volunteering at a soup kitchen or something."_

_Kurt leaned against the wall outside the choir room with a hand over his heart and a tearful smile and listened to Blaine practice the speech and song he would eventually use to officially ask Kurt to go to New York with him, with Santana offering soft reassurances and snarky comments. Despite knowing it was coming, despite hearing it seven times as he leaned against the wall outside as Blaine practiced, on the day when Blaine really sang to him, all earnest smiles and loving eyes, Kurt cried and kissed Blaine breathless and whispered _yes yes yes, forever and always, yes.

* * *

><p>"H-home?"<p>

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I condemned you back to Ohio when I had a way to help. Please say you will."

"This isn't the first time you've asked me to New York, you know."

"I know."

"The song was beautiful."

"You remembered?"

"Just now."

"I was young then. So much sillier than I am now. But that was probably one of my better moments."

"I'd have to agree with that."

"So, is that a yes?"

"I have a feeling that I'm not very good at saying no to you, Blaine. Even if I wanted to."

"And do you want to?"

"Not at all."

"Excellent."

* * *

><p>Amanda, their favourite doctor-who had grown to be more of a friend than a medical practitioner in the weeks since Kurt had woken-pulled Blaine aside one day.<p>

"Blaine." Her voice was hushed and he knew it was because, despite being out in the hallway, she wanted no chance of Kurt hearing what she would say, "You need to be careful once he leaves the hospital. Kurt remembers through a series of trigger words and sights. That's not such a big deal here in the hospital when he doesn't have so many memories to associate but out in the world he may become overwhelmed. There might also be sights that don't do good things for him. I'm worried about him seeing so much at once and I need to make sure that you'll be there as much as you can while he gets his feet back under him. I think we both know that things are different with you and Kurt than they are with Kurt and anybody else. He'll need you more than ever Blaine and I want to make sure you know that now. I care about Kurt, you know that, and I can't bear to see him hurting any more than he already is. Please just be careful with him."

"I'm doing my best, I don't want him hurting either. I have _nightmares _about him remembering everything he's been through in his life. About him remembering what other people have done to him. Remembering what _I _did to him. He won't let me tell him. I'm scared he'll remember it though and it's just...I don't know what to do."

"Give him time. He loves you, Blaine. And he knows you love him, in your way."

"I love him in every way."

"Why won't you tell him?"

"I loved him before too."

"Oh Blaine. I care about you too, you know. I don't want either of you hurting and when you do this you're only hurting yourself."

"You don't know all of it, Amanda. I'm just so scared."

"Sweetie, you can't be scared forever."

"I'm working on it. I promise."

"Okay. I'm always here if you need someone to talk to, about anything."

"Thank you."

"And just remember about the triggers, okay? They could be anything and anyone and some may affect him more deeply than others. You both have my cell number if you have questions."

"Thank you._ For everything._"

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><p>Kurt was discharged on November 28th, after more than a month in hospital. They had decided that Kurt and Blaine would stay at Burt's house for a few weeks, for the final checkups and the convenience of it before they flew back out to New York together.<p>

Kurt shook like a leaf when he saw the car, remembering the pain of the accident before he had blacked out, remembering the aftermath of his last journey in a car. Blaine just told Finn to drive and he pulled Kurt into the backseat, where he held him against his body until he stopped trembling.

By the time they got to Burt's house Kurt was asleep on Blaine's chest and Finn simply wrapped his arms around and under his stepbrother and carried him up to the room where he had grown up, Blaine following behind.

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><p><strong><em>review? <em>  
>I know this chapter wasn't very long considering the wait (i'msorryi'msorryi'msorry) but if the next chapter stays as it's written at the moment it's just kind of make sense to cut it off now. you'll see. and probably be angry with me. and the boys are finally going to new york in a few chapters!<strong>

**but first, apparently the boys wanted more angst, fair warning. kurt actually really surprised me. usually the dialogue gets out of hand but he threw a bit of history at me that had me _floored_. i went with it but i still don't know how i feel about what he told me. i guess we'll see.**

**anyways, until next time, i love you all.**  
><strong>xoxo<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**WARNINGS: mention of suicidal thoughts, a big pile of angst and vague allusions to their past without much explanation.**

**i'm really not sure about this chapter, they kind of just took this chapter over and no matter what i did to try and change what was happening they kind of pushed it on me. this wasn't in the plan, and that's why it's taken a while. because i definitely resisted writing this, but it was all i _could _write so i've just kind of accepted it.**

**this is what i get for letting my characters drive the stories the way they do, honestly.**

**i promise fluff and cuddles? **

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><p>Kurt blinks himself awake to a room he's sure he's seen before.<p>

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><p><em>It feels like he's cried himself to sleep here a million times. It feels like this room was the only place he could feel safe. The only place he could be himself without someone trying to tear even that away from him. He sang here, laughed here, cried here. Always, always cried here. He held a bottle of pills and thought about dying here. He popped open the cap and stared into the little tube of sleeping pills. How many did you take if you wanted to sleep forever? <em>

_His phone vibrated. _

_**From Blaine: **_

_**Come see RENT with me this weekend? My treat! :) **_

_Something like hope bloomed in his chest and he twisted the lid back on and put the bottle down_

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><p>"Hey." <em>His<em> voice, coming from the doorway, was quiet. Unsure of whether Kurt was awake or not.

"You saved my life. Did I ever tell you that?"

His smile is warm as he takes Kurt's hand, saying, "You give me far too much credit."

"No. Really. I stood here with a bottle of sleeping pills. I thought maybe twelve would do it. I didn't want to take so many that I'd just throw them up before they could do what I wanted them to. I didn't want to mess it up." Kurt's voice is emotionless in the way it always is where his memories are involved. His memories don't always come back with their emotions and he has to attach them for himself in the present. When he first remembers things he's cold-detached about them, until he has some time to process.

"Kurt." Blaine's voice, just a gasp and yet it conveys so much pain, and now Kurt knows he never told him and he's pretty sure this was why. Blaine's voice isn't made to sound this way.

Kurt can't stop talking though, even though his heart is beating somewhere above his chest and Blaine's eyes are already spilling over, "I had the lid off when you texted me, asking me to go see Rent with you. You literally saved my life Blaine."

"Kurt." There was something in the cadence of Blaine's voice. Like desperation, heartbreak and the worst kind of joy, the kind that comes from absolute despair; all mixed together.

"All you do is save me, Blaine. Why don't you_ know_ that?"

"Kurt. Kurt. _Kurt_."

Blaine is suddenly all around him, everywhere. Holding onto Kurt like he's the only thing that will keep Blaine from shaking himself apart. His breath is a gasp against Kurt's ear and his entire body is quivering and he's just whimpering Kurt's name now, like he can't even say anything else. Kurt feels hot tears against his shoulder and he hates himself because he should have _known_. He should have known that Blaine's emotions wouldn't need the same catch up time as his own. He should have realized what this particular memory would mean to Blaine, what it would mean to _both_ of them once Kurt had the chance to get there too.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry Blaine."

"Kurt."

"Shh, please. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. Please. Please."

And it says everything that Kurt knows exactly what Blaine is asking him for. He kisses his forehead and neither of them say anything else as they lay there, tangled in each other.

Blaine is on the cusp of sleep when he hears Kurt whisper, "I was so good at pretending to be happy. And then I met you and I didn't have to pretend a thing."

* * *

><p>Finn looked at his mother and Burt, who held hands and heavy hearts between them.<p>

"I'm worried about them." Burt finally said, rubbing his forehead and letting out a heavy sigh.

"We all are, dear. It's like nothing ever changed. Like they were never apart."

"Kurt doesn't remember what it was like when they were apart. I'm so afraid that he'll remember what happened with them, how things ended. I don't ever want to see my son like that again. He's got a temper and if he remembers what happened, he'll chase Blaine away. He won't remember what life is without Blaine until it's too late, and I honestly don't know if we'll be able to fix him again. It was hard enough the first time, without adding amnesia to it all."

"And they'll be living together this time. Kurt may end up homeless if things go bad."

"Thanks Finn, that really makes me feel better about it all."

"Was it really that bad?" asks a quiet voice from the doorway-Blaine.

"How long have you been there?"

"A while. Kurt's sleeping. I was just coming to get his pills before he was too far gone."

"Blaine, honey, I'm sorry. You know we all adore you. And we know that things wouldn't be as good as they are now if you hadn't been here, but we still worry. You didn't see what it was like with him when you left, Blaine."

"What happened?"

"He was okay, for the most part. He was really down for a week or so and then he just went on living his life, he didn't even cry all the time or anything after that first bit." Finn paused, eyes searching Blaine's face, "Actually, he didn't act like anything had happened. It was almost like he had never known you, like he just learned not to think about you or something. But he stopped smiling, man. He said it hurt too much to smile when you weren't there to smile back."

"Break ups are hard on everybody, it's not that surprising."

"Blaine, he _literally stopped smiling_. We aren't exaggerating this. It took forgetting everything for him to remember how to smile. Do you know what it's like to spend three years looking at someone who can't really smile? Do you know what it is to look at the person you love most in the world and know that their heart might not ever be okay? Especially when they're pretending like everything is fine, when they won't talk to anybody about it. It was probably the hardest thing I'd ever done, to act like I couldn't see how broken his heart was, but I _had to _because _he_ wouldn't accept that it was. I just-I'm begging you, Blaine. Whatever you do, don't do that to him again. Don't leave him with no answers. Don't leave him with a broken heart and a pile of insecurities. Don't make him pretend to be okay when we can all see that he's _not._"

Carole and Burt were both crying, but Blaine wasn't. Blaine looked frozen. Blaine looked like he was in _pain._

"Why didn't anyone tell me it was that bad? Why didn't anyone tell me that he-"

"Would it have changed anything?"

"It would have changed _everything." _And then Blaine turned and rushed back up the stairs, back up to Kurt.

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><p>When Burt went to bed he peaked into Kurt's room on his way past-a habit that had never died, even when Kurt wasn't even occupying his childhood room.<p>

Kurt was asleep with his head on Blaine's chest, but when the door creaked open Blaine lifted his face from Kurt's hair and Burt felt his heart stop.

Because when Burt saw the tear tracks down Blaine's face and the little bit of brokenness in his red-rimmed eyes, he realized that maybe they had never known the whole story.

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><p><strong>this chapter was far too short to have that much angst going on. welp. <strong>

**uh, don't hate me? **

**also, Kurt wasn't like catatonic and _Twilight-y_ about it or anything, he was actually remarkably well adjusted about it all, he cried and ate ice cream and listened to Teenage Dream constantly for about a week and then he got himself together and just kept on living. the only difference was the smiling thing, which he kind of just pretended wasn't a thing at all (Finn got him really, really drunk one time and that's the only reason he told him) **

**sorry about this chapter, i really don't know how _i_ feel about it.  
>love you all<br>xoxo  
><strong>


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